Crime and Punishment
Minerva McGonagall left her office a little after her grandfather's clock had chimed seven times and headed downstairs towards the kitchens. There was only one bit of duty left today, which concerned Hogwarts's least seen and acknowledged part of the staff. The House-Elves were always pleased to have her as a guest, Minerva had discovered, but when it came to listening to her suggestions concerning their working conditions they often turned a deaf ear in spite of the headmaster's high hopes for changes brought about by constant repetition.
Thus, when Minerva tickled the pear on the portrait in the basement and entered the well-known realms of the Hogwarts kitchen vault, she was not really looking forward to the next thirty minutes, in which she was going to lecture the school's little helpers on contemporary employment law.
"How are you today?" she asked one of the older elves upon having entered and been offered tea and bisquits. She motioned him to sit with her, but the creature squeaked and bowed and vanished from her sight before she could insist. Minerva sighed.
"We should talk some more about the question of holidays," she said to no one in particular. The few elves who were not pretending to work made uneasy faces.
"The deputy headmistress means well," one of them said slowly, "but she ought not insult…"
"It's not an insult!" Minerva replied forcefully, willing herself to remain calm on the outside. She had been through this. Countless times. All the situation required was patience. "It is an offer for better working conditions. And occasional breaks."
Again, no one seemed to be taking in what she said. Minerva sighed.
"Listen," she said quietly, "you don't have to give your labour away just like that - and on the groundsthat you are not human. You are entitled to the same rights as we are, even if half the wizarding population regards this as a wrong decision by the current Minister for Magic. The problem is that we cannot free you from the bounds of servitude if you insist on doing this work without compensation. There is no law in the world that will be able to back you up if you won't even start standing up for yourselves…"
"It is a great honour to be working for a wonderful wizard such as Albus Dumbledore," one of the elves said now, seeming a bit bolder than the rest of them. "The headmaster is great and good and would surely disapprove of his deputy headmistress coming down here to tell us all to leave."
"But that's not what I'm here for…" Minerva protested. The elf interrupted.
"Surely, the deputy headmistress has other, much more important things to do than to come down to the kitchens every other day telling the elves things they already know."
"You are right," muttered Minerva glumly. "She certainly does. Still, it is important for you to realise…"
"If the deputy headmistress would like to help," the elf now continued, "she ought to spend her time working against people who make her students unhappy."
"Like who?" said Minerva quickly. Her eyebrows contracted into a single, straight line. It was quite unusual especially for Hogwarts House-Elves to notice much of what was going on around them. They always played a little dim-witted, Minerva knew, and only at times of great need showed that they actually saw and heard more than most witches and wizards. They rarely discussed things beyond their daily duties and almost never advised their masters on what to do. "Who do you mean?" she thus added, her interest picked.
The elf seemed reluctant.
"Paggy not like to talk ill of Hogwarts staff," he mumbled. "Paggy only observes students coming here talking about things, sometimes crying…"
"Who was crying?" Minerva said harshly.
"The little Slytherin third-year," Paggy replied, looking a lot more uneasy than only a minute ago. He seemed to have realised that he was entering dangerous realms and the ancient habit of his kind to punish themselves when they were betraying the person they considered their master seemed about to kick in. "The one who always comes here…"
"Who?" said Minerva sharply, thinking that she most probably knew the answer.
"Snape," said the elf after a long moment's struggle, and then kicked his own shin with the other foot. Minerva clenched her fists, as to keep herself from jumping up. She had long found out that House-Elves did not take too kindly to being kept from their rightful punishment.
"Severus Snape," she said loudly, as to distract the creature from its torment. "Was he here today?"
Some of the other elves confirmed this, watching their fellow worker punish himself without apparent sympathy.
"Young Slytherin very afraid of thrashing vault," one of the female cooks now muttered, earning herself exceedingly reproachful looks from her fellow workers. "He never admits to it, of course, but we elves sense his fear. Even if he is all alone now."
Minerva tried to make sense of what the elf was saying.
"The thrashing vault?" she said quickly, her voice low and concentrated. "Tonight?"
Several elves nodded.
"Alexander…" Minerva growled, clenching her fists again, this time in boiling anger. "Oh no, you won't!" And she rose from her seat.
"I thank you for the excellent tea," she told the House-Elves while approaching the portrait hole leading to the dungeon floor. "I shall be back in a few days, most probably. If not, next week."
And followed by several highly insecure looks, she exited the kitchens, hurrying towards "classroom six", which was situated behind a corner a little further down the corridor.
Even before she entered the oblong room she could hear that there were people inside. Almost breaking into a run, the headmistress crossed the doorstep the exact moment when Sirius Black let out a high-pitched scream. Minerva's thoughts were racing, blindly searching for a way to deal with the scene before her.
"Alexander!" she called, well aware that by current wizarding school law he was as yet perfectly entitled to continue what he was currently doing. "A word, if you please!"
The man straightened up, his forehead slightly sweaty, and – she could not believe it – smiled.
"Minerva," he said darkly. "As you can see, I am a little indisposed at the moment. Could this wait until later?"
"Afraid not," Minerva replied, her eyes gliding over Black, who was standing bent over one of the old students' benches a few feet away from her, not daring to move or breathe. The other boys were standing a little further away, cowering against the stone walls of the oblong vault. There were several of them. Potter and Pettigrew she recognised at an instant, as they were both standing fairly close by, their eyes widened in horror at their friend's treatment. But where was Snape?
"Well," said Fumes, sounding a little impatient," what is it?"
"I have a serious case of rule-breaking on the Astronomy tower," Minerva replied, inventing wildly. "Your seventh-years. I daresay you are the only one they will listen to. I tried everything I could."
Fumes seemed dissatisfied.
"Well, I'll be there in a bit. I need to deal with one matter after the other. The matter isn't particularly urgent, I am sure?"
"Incredibly urgent," Minerva assured, spotting Snape at last. He was standing in a corner a little apart from the other boys, his face displaying no emotion whatsoever although his eyes were glittering defiantly. "I'll take over down here, if you wish me to, but this matter requires your full attention."
There was a small break.
"Very well," Fumes replied sourly, turning back to Black and the bench on which the boy's hands were still resting, knuckles as white as his handsome face. The professor snatched a piece of parchment, on which a few numbers and the boys' names were scribbled. "One down with this one," he growled. "See to it that Potter learns his lesson this time."
And he marched out. Minerva suddenly found herself alone in Hogwarts's least favoured vault, a cane shoved into her shaking hand and the parchment in the other, having three extremely anxious-looking faces peer into hers. She lowered both hands and heaved a deep breath.
"Get up, Mr. Black," she said quietly. "How many did you get?"
"Just the one," the boy replied grumpily. He was visibly embarrassed and Minerva decided to deal with this as quickly and efficiently as possible.
"Seems I arrived just in time then, did I not?" she smiled, putting both, cane and parchment on the bank beside the victim. Black nodded, relief spreading on his face upon realising that she was on their side.
"You all know the headmaster's decision," Minerva said to the others. "No more punishments such as this one. This was over the incidents on the Isle of Mull, I take it?"
The three Gryffindors confirmed this. Snape, Minerva realised, had to be here because of a different kind of misdeed, but he did not speak, nor did he show any sign of relief that she was here or that he was not going to receive the punishment Fumes had had in store for him. Minerva remembered the House-Elf's words – "Young Slytherin very afraid of thrashing vault – he never admits to it, of course…"
"Well then," she said after a moment's consideration, "I trust you are aware that I just saved your backsides – literally."
"Absolutely, Professor," Black confirmed quickly, while Potter and Pettigrew still seemed unable to do anything but nod. Snape remained unmoving. "Just in time, too! Man, I would have hated more of that."
"It can be rather unpleasant," Minerva nodded. "Well then, off to your dormitories now, all four of you."
The boys left the vault in a hurry. Snape, who had been furthest away from the door, crept out after the other three, avoiding the deputy headmistress's gaze. He moved a little like a spider, Minerva thought. Not straight and self-assured as his father tended to. Well, of course with Snapes it was often a matter of time before they grew to be their confident, grown-up self. Then again…
"Mr. Snape," she heard herself say before the boy had quite vanished behind the corner of the dungeon corridor, "could I have a quick word?"
He turned. Unmoving, unspeaking. The boy's expression was blank and cold as it had been before and he had both hands hidden deeply inside the pockets of his robes. Minerva approached him not without worry.
"What did you do to ignite my colleague's anger?" she enquired, aware that she sounded rather formal.
"Cheating in the mock exam," the boy muttered.
Minerva frowned. "Quite a harsh retribution," she said. "How many were you down for?"
"Three," Snape whispered.
The deputy headmistress nodded gravely.
"I hear Fumes is quite a… skilled caner, if you want to put it like that. And the implement itself is one of the worst I've ever seen. You wouldn't have enjoyed it."
She was surprised to see that Snape's eyes narrowed even further.
"No," he said harshly. "I didn't enjoy it."
There was a moment's break, in which Minerva stared at her student in upcoming horror.
"What do you – you mean you were already…"
A reproachful glare met hers.
"Mr. Snape, I am so sorry," she whispered. "I wasn't aware… I did think I'd come just in time…"
"You know," the boy said boldly, suddenly sounding a lot older than he actually was, "they were down for six after their foolish attempt of getting around the punishment by jinxing their stupid backsides. I would have liked to see the rest of the show, you know. Just for them to feel what it is like for a change!"
And he turned, heading off in the direction of his common room. Minerva considered for a moment whether she ought to follow him, but then decided against it. Three were manageable without the support of the school nurse. And she had the shrewd suspicion that Snape would have resented another night in the hospital wing – more than the actual aftereffects of the beating.